


And Who, My Friend, Will Judge You?

by DropshipAlpha



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Heaven, I dunno it was just something I wrote to make myself feel better after he died, M/M, it didn't work, it's not too sad though, set sometime after Newt dies, yes this is a death fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:51:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3687744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropshipAlpha/pseuds/DropshipAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas dies and winds up in heaven, where he is to be judged by the person he wronged the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Who, My Friend, Will Judge You?

Thomas didn't understand what had happened. One moment he had been fighting off some nutbag Crank who had a knife pressed against his throat. He remembered the blade biting into his skin and the warm feeling of blood pouring from the wound as his chest had screamed for air. Then there had been a blinding white light and searing pain throughput his body.  
Now he sat in the middle of a dirt path in a forest, dense greenery surrounding him on all sides. Rocks and pebbles were digging into his butt and hands painfully. He pushed himself to his feet carefully and brushed the gravel from his pants while examining his surroundings. He wasn't sure whether to trust what he was seeing or not.  
A bright cloudless sky stretched above the canopy of trees overhead. The sun spotted the forest floor with pinpricks of light that stabbed through the leaves above him. For a second he worried that he was back in the Glade; in the forest that housed the cemetery. But there were no walls as far as he could see and he didn't hear the noises of Gladers milling about.  
"Hey, Tommy." His heart leapt into his throat when a voice interrupted his thoughts. He spun in the direction it had come from, ready to face whoever had surprised him. Thomas froze when he saw Newt standing there. His friend was smiling slightly with just a small upturn of the corners of his mouth. He was in the clothes he had worn in the Maze, though he was much cleaner. Thomas was so shocked he could hardly speak. This definitely had to be a dream. He had to have passed out from losing so much blood.  
"I know what you're thinking. This isn't a bloody dream," he said as if he'd read Thomas' thoughts. "This," he motioned to everything around him, "Is Heaven. You finally managed to get yourself killed, slinthead."  
Thomas gaped. He just stared at Newt dumbly, mouth hanging open in shock.  
Heaven? That was impossible. Thomas couldn't really be dead. And anyway, where were the pearly gates? Or angels in diapers with fluffy wings and halos? Why were they in a forest?  
"Hello? Did you forget how to talk in the time I was gone?" Newt cocked an eyebrow.  
"I'm dead?" Thomas blurted out. He couldn't stop staring at the boy he had been sure he'd never see again. There was no sign of the disease that had gripped his brain and turned him crazy. It was the old Newt he had met in the Glade and had come to know as his best friend.  
"I'm afraid so. Walk with me." Newt suddenly started striding deeper into the forest and Thomas followed instinctually. It reminded him of when Newt had shown him around the Glade. Thomas noticed his limp was gone.  
"What are you doing here, Newt? Are you an angel? Where are your wings and halo? Where are the pearly gates everyone talks about?" Thomas knew he was babbling but he couldn't help himself. A part of him was still sure everything around him was a dream.  
"Slim it, one question at a time. I'm not a buggin' angel. There are no pearly gates."  
"So, you're telling me Heaven is just a forest? Where is everyone else?"  
Newt shook his head. "Everyone has their own Heaven. This is sort of the default. It's where everyone starts out to get judged."  
"Judged? Are you going to judge me?"  
Newt nodded. "You get judged by the person you wronged the worst in your life. They decide whether or not you get sent downstairs."  
Thomas swallowed thickly. "Oh."  
Thomas couldn't look at his friend. He knew exactly why it was Newt who was going to judge him. He remembered seeing his friend in the Crank Palace, far past the Gone. He had let Newt suffer for too long. Thomas felt his emotions rise in his throat, threatening to choke him.  
What was he supposed to say? That he was sorry? That was probably the best option right now. He reached out to grab Newt's arm, get him to look at Thomas.  
"Newt, I'm sor-"  
"Clam it. I don't want your apologies." The words held no real weight but Thomas flinched all the same and he immediately dropped his arm. He remembered the look in Newt's eyes as he had screamed at Thomas. Those last few seconds of sanity. The pleading that had burned in his friend's eyes. He stared hard at the ground, hardly even noticing that they had stopped walking.  
He lifted his head when he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he met Newt's eyes he found no hatred or anger in his face and was surprised to find nothing but gratitude. He was smiling openly now, not showing any teeth but managing to make it just as genuine.  
"Thank you, Tommy. For being my friend." Then Newt vanished and Thomas' world went white once again. This time, he felt no pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote after Newt's death to make myself feel better. There's really no certain time this fic takes place in the canon. If you see anything I could do better please tell me, I'd love to improve.


End file.
